Chapter 10
Mia
‘You signed me up to be a bartender?’
Alice bows her head as though she has done some kind of Mother Teresa-grade good deed.
‘It was bartender or barista, and I’m telling you, barista is no option for a sane person.’ She picks up two trays, hands one to me, then takes her place in the lunch line. ‘Barista shifts start at six thirty in the morning. Inhumane.’
‘And bartender shifts run until when?’
‘Latest I’ve been there is two a.m. but even then you don’t start until six or seven in the evening. Much more civilized.’
It’s hard to know what to concentrate on, Alice’s helpful employment advice, my first ever visit to the refectory, our full-on formal dining hall, complete with long oak dining tables and matching panelled walls.
Then there’s whatever it is that’s passing for food in the metal warming dishes up ahead.
I am unexpectedly homesick for a Hardee’s sausage biscuit.
‘Spilling beer on yourself is also a lot less dangerous than chucking an extra-hot latte down your shirt, trust me on that.’
I screw up my face in concentration, trying to decide between what I believe is supposed to be a lasagne and something called a shepherd’s pie. Made with real shepherds? I reach for the lasagne, but Alice stops my hand and redirects it to the shepherd’s pie.
‘Lasagne famously bad here,’ she murmurs, eyes on the lunch lady staring at us from behind the counter. ‘There was a rumour last year that they used dog food instead of beef, which can’t possibly be true but if you’d tasted it, you’d have reason to believe.’
Shepherd’s pie it is.
‘They didn’t have anything else?’ I add a napkin, flatware and a tumbler to my tray and follow Alice down the centre of the ref, the long wooden tables on either side of us already crowded with students. ‘Nothing at all? Preferably not in the service industry?’
‘Most of the cushy jobs are spoken for before the term even starts.’ She throws one denim-clad leg over the bench, taking a seat as soon as we reach an unoccupied spot.
‘Campus bookshop, the little supermarket, anything in the student union office, gone before you arrived. All they had left was coffee shop, bar or library and you’d be bored out of your mind at the library.
Imagine having to be quiet all day long. I would die.’
I don’t doubt it for a second.
‘You don’t think it’s going to be an issue that I’ve never been in a bar and have no idea how to make anything more complicated than an Arnold Palmer?’
Alice scoffs as I pour out two glasses of water from the jug in the middle of the table.
‘Details, details. I’ll train you up in no time, we’ll have you slinging bottles and dancing on the bar by the end of your first shift. Except don’t dance on the bar, that’s how Evelyn Chong broke her ankle at last year’s Christmas bop and it really shit on the vibe. Also, what’s an Arnold Palmer?’
Bartender. Hmm. I poke at my lunch and try to picture myself behind the bar, mixing cocktails and pouring beers. Nope, can’t do it. A different image of me crouched in a corner, sobbing, while angry students scream in my general direction? Super easy to conjure up.
I’m trying to work out how to sit down without flashing my underwear to the entire room when Jenna strolls over, slinging her tray down next to Alice’s and clambering over the bench.
This is why everyone is wearing pants. This is why I will be wearing pants from now on. RIP cute skirt, we hardly knew you.
Alice and I watch intently as Jenna takes a huge bite out of her lasagne then makes a face.
‘I thought it would be different,’ she says, pushing it away and opening a bag of chips instead. ‘How’s your day going so far?’
‘All good,’ Alice replies for both of us, and I nod to agree. ‘You are officially looking at Members’ hottest new bartending duo, as long as Mia passes her trial shift tonight, which she will.’
I turn to her with alarm.
‘The trial is tonight? Alice, I literally just got here.’
‘Perfect time to start then. Six p.m. on the dot. I’ll knock for you at five, we can get ready together.’
Everything inside me wants to come up with an excuse to turn this down, only …
I do need the job and isn’t this whole year supposed to be about stepping out of my comfort zone?
It’s not like I’m making an atomic bomb, it’s just serving drinks.
Alice will be there to help. Unless I totally mess up and embarrass her and she never wants to speak to me again.
‘We’ll all come down and support you,’ Jenna promises and I feel slightly better. ‘Do you know how to make kamikazes?’
‘Should I?’
‘What about a Woo Woo?’
‘What about a what now?’
‘Ignore her,’ Alice instructs as Jenna sticks her fork into her best friend’s lunch. ‘If you can open a bottle and pull a pint, you can work at Members.’
It doesn’t seem like the right time to tell her I don’t know what pulling a pint means or that the last time I opened a bottle, a Mexican Coke from the taqueria in downtown Valley Springs, I somehow broke the neck and almost sliced off my thumb. What are the chances of that happening again?
‘Knew I’d find you reprobates here.’
Michael’s voice carries across the hall and I’m just about to take my first bite of shepherd’s pie when I realize he isn’t alone. Right behind him are Bryn and Oliver.
‘Missed the Pedigree Chum that much, did you?’
He sits on my left, Bryn on my right, leaving Oliver to take the last open seat across the table, next to Alice.
He doesn’t have a tray, just a wrapped sandwich I didn’t even see on the line.
He’s wearing the same leather blazer as yesterday with a worn-looking band shirt underneath, and when he looks up at me from underneath his dark blond wavy hair, I almost fall off the bench.
My mouth dries up, my hands turn clammy and every clever thing in my brain goes to mush.
What were we talking about? Where am I? What’s my name? I’m so pathetic, I could cry.
‘Not as much as you, apparently.’ Jenna eyeballs the double portion on Michael’s plate. ‘Rancid.’
‘I’m a growing boy. And some of us already had football practice this morning, I’m replacing all the calories Mia’s friend made me burn off. Please tell him goalies don’t need to be able to sprint faster than your average cheetah, my job is to stand there and look pretty.’
‘Aren’t you supposed to block goals?’ Bryn asks helpfully.
‘Only if the back line is shit enough to let the other team make it that far in the first place, and Mia’s mate will likely skin them alive if that happens. He’s the most competitive human being I’ve ever met, and I’ve been to the pub quiz with Jenna.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to win,’ she replies, sharp as a knife. ‘And who are you talking about, Mia’s friend?’
‘We’ve got an American on the team. Ethan Taylor.’
The sound of his name makes me clench my fists so tight my short nails cut into the tender flesh of my palms. Our last conversation has been playing on my mind and not in a good way. He looked so angry. No, he looked hurt. I wasn’t expecting it.
‘Just because they’re from the same country doesn’t mean they know each other,’ Alice points out. ‘Do you know every English person?’
‘Yes. Every single one of them.’
Oliver still hasn’t spoken. Instead, he sits across the table, looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I put my fork back down on the table because my stomach has seized up so tightly there is a distinct possibility I will never eat again.
‘We, um, we went to the same school,’ I offer. ‘Back home.’
‘Fancies himself a bit,’ Michael says through a mouthful of food. ‘Bloody good striker though. Anything I need to know about him?’
I shake my head. ‘Marshall is a big school, we really didn’t know each other. Different subjects, different schedules, he ran with the soccer crowd.’
‘And what crowd did you run with?’
Oliver looks at me with pleasant expectation, his question hovering between us.
‘English?’ I try. ‘The English crowd?’
Bryn looks up, eyes bright. ‘There were English exchange students at your uni?’
‘English lit,’ I clarify. ‘I was studying English literature at home. And here. Everywhere, both places, here and there.’
And now I can’t stop talking. Fantastic. Why will no one put me out of my misery?
‘Have you got your schedule?’ Oliver asks, gifting me a sleepy smile, and I’m not sure if I even have the ability to speak, let alone find a single loose sheet of paper in my bulging bag.
‘Uh, somewhere.’
Fumbling around in my tote, I comb through my belongings, a notebook, pencil case, three lip balms and the handful of tampons I tossed in at the last minute in case my period came early, or I met someone in a bathroom who needed one, and who wants to be caught without a tampon?
‘Here, found it.’
I pull out the schedule and Oliver holds out his hand. Obediently, I pass it over, his fingers grazing mine. My breath catches and underneath my sweater, all the hairs on my arm stand on end.
‘Very nice selection,’ he says without looking up. ‘We must have similar taste.’
‘Fantastic, another pretentious wanker,’ Michael says with a pleasant smile and Alice and Jenna hit him at the same time.
Oliver passes my schedule back, his hand brushing against mine again but this time he lets the contact hold. The tips of his fingers are rough with callouses from his guitar, the nails ultra short, and I suck my lips under my teeth to stop myself from sighing out loud.
‘Can’t wait to get stuck into the Bronte module.’ He grips the schedule a moment longer, holding my eyes with his. ‘Jane Eyre is my favourite book.’
‘Mine too,’ I reply. ‘Well, sometimes it’s Jane Eyre, sometimes it’s Wuthering Heights, but I love the Brontes.’
‘We should study together. Maybe you can help me understand why Jane has such a low opinion of herself when everyone else can see she’s just wonderful.’
A tiny whimpering sound escapes the back of my throat and even though I try to conceal it with a cough, it’s obvious from Alice’s pitiful grin I’m not entirely successful.
‘Enough course talk,’ Jenna announces as I stuff my schedule back into my tote and try to pretend Oliver isn’t still looking at me. ‘On to more important matters. Autumn bop, what are we wearing?’
Everyone groans, even Alice, but Jenna’s dark eyes sparkle. ‘Don’t give me that, you know you all love it really.’
‘Jen, it’s weeks from now,’ Michael says, drawing an imaginary noose around his neck. ‘Can we have five minutes before you start dressing us up like Barbie dolls? You know I hate fancy dress.’
‘Fancy dress?’ I frown at the thought of what might pass for fancy in my current closet. ‘As in a formal?’
‘As in costumes.’ Bryn shakes his head at his own statement. ‘It’s a Hemden tradition for some reason.’
‘And we have to kill it with ours this year,’ Jenna insists, turning to me to explain.
‘It’s the first official bop of the year, so the whole uni gets involved.
The first years always dress like shit, but as third-year students we have an obligation to absolutely smash it and embarrass each and every one of them. ’
This is so much worse than finding something to wear for a formal. The last time I wore a costume for Halloween, I was eleven and tripped over my Little Mermaid tail, knocking out my two front teeth. My dad still likes to bring up the dentist bill every time I go in for a check-up.
‘Why don’t we get through our first week and worry about costumes then?’ Oliver suggests and I nod in agreement, very, very quickly. ‘At least let Mia endure Dr Quinn’s first lecture and decide whether or not she even wants to stay at Hemden before you dress her up as a slab of cod.’
Jenna scowls. ‘The fish and chips theme was Michael’s idea, not mine, I wanted to do The Wizard of Oz. And no one said you had to be the fish. Us little chippies were perfectly happy, thank you very much.’
‘I wasn’t thrilled, if I’m honest.’
‘Not helpful, Alice.’
‘All right, children, I’ll leave you to squabble amongst yourselves.’
Oliver stands, straddling the bench, and Michael tosses a crisp in his direction.
‘You’ve got somewhere better to be?’
‘Band practice.’
‘Oliver is going to be the next Ed Sheeran,’ Jenna says in a stage whisper, but Oliver’s face is a picture of horror, his perfect mouth forming a perfect O.
‘Jenna, that hurts.’ He picks up his sandwich and holds it to his chest like a dagger through his heart. ‘Jeff Buckley, Leonard Cohen, Elliot Smith, maybe, but Sheeran? I didn’t know you hated me.’
Both of Michael’s eyebrows pull upward. ‘See? Pretentious wanker.’
But Oliver laughs when he winks, raising his sandwich in a general goodbye, and when his eyes catch mine, I feel my heart stutter in my chest. What would it be like to walk beside him, hands entwined, head held high?
I wonder what his music sounds like, whether or not I’ll get to hear him play, and just how likely it is I’ll pass out if I do.
‘New girl.’ Michael’s voice breaks through my daydream. ‘Are you going to eat your lunch or not?’
‘Not.’
I push the plate towards him, not hungry at all.
‘You’ll get used to the food,’ Alice promises. ‘Promise me you’ll eat something before your shift, I don’t want you passing out behind the bar.’
‘Behind what bar?’ Bryn asks.
‘Alice hooked me up with a job at Members,’ I tell him, almost convincing myself I’m excited about it.
‘You’ve worked behind a bar before?’
‘No, but I waitressed all summer and Alice swears it’s easy.’
Something uncertain passes over his face, just for a second, then it’s replaced with his usual warm, sunny expression.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees lightly. ‘Easy enough.’
‘You’re basically getting paid to hang out with your mates,’ Alice says. ‘Working at Members is the easiest job in the world.’
And like a fool, I believe her.